


I'll Still Be A Fool ('Cause I'm A Fool For You)

by explorationhaz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explorationhaz/pseuds/explorationhaz
Summary: Louis fell in love with Harry seven years ago. He fell so fucking hard. Louis wipes his hands against his face angrily. He hasn’t talked to Harry in five years, yet two songs have him falling back in love with the boy who broke him beyond repair.prompt:au where louis hears a song being sung from a roof while walking on the streets of london, it sounds like something his ex-boyfriend sang to him five years ago. louis can't help but to stop and listen.





	I'll Still Be A Fool ('Cause I'm A Fool For You)

**Author's Note:**

> mainly based off of harry singing two ghosts for a second time on top of a roof for james cordon's late late show. also i deeply apologize if this is bad, it's my first ever real writing. but i am so glad to be able to share this after staying up all night writing it. please don't hate me too much :)

Louis was in the middle of his walk home in London, warm June air nipping at the nape of his neck and the other areas of his body that weren’t covered with clothing, when he heard the music begin to play. Brisk notes rolling off of the instruments as easy as words flow off a tongue, rhythm so highly familiar to Louis. The sound giving him memories of _who_ used to be his _home_.

Louis feels nostalgic, he knows how important it is for him to remember why the music sounds so familiar. He could swear the rhythm he heard five seconds ago is the same rhythm he heard five years ago while splayed out on the bed, pretending to read a book. A scheme to convince Harry that Louis really was busy. Louis was in the middle of page twenty, on paragraph eight, when the same familiar notes began to play. Day in and day out for a week Louis walked into his home with those notes playing. Never quite hearing the full song, just the beginning twelve seconds before the beautiful music came to a sudden holt. Louis _knew_ those twelve seconds of music, and he _thought_ he knew Harry.

The first lyric has Louis abruptly stopping in his tracks. The words dripping from Harry’s mouth like honey, oozing together like mud, yet more crystal clear than oceans in Dubai. “Same lips red, same eyes blue,” vibrates from within the air, and into Louis’ ears. The song continues into the next lyric, “Same white shirt, couple more tattoos” ringing out off of some local rooftop. Louis knows that voice. He listened to it grow deeper and deeper for seven years, was there the first day in the studio when the voice started it’s true beginning of life. The voice belonging to none other than Harry Styles.

It’s a minute into the song when Louis realizes it was written for him. “Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat” echoing throughout the many alleys and street ways surrounding the building Harry is currently singing atop of. Louis remembers writing the line in his journal directly next to his drawing of Harry’s heart tattoo which matches his arrow, remembers forgetting to grab the journal as he packed his things quick and efficiently, remembers asking for it to be returned but remembers he never received a call or text back, instead radio silence on Harry’s end.

Louis’ eyes begin to tear up forty seconds later, “‘Cause we don’t say what we really need” clouding around his head, turning into fog, and seeping into his thoughts. The fog quickly clearing, memories arising then fading simultaneously and rapidly. Foul memories sticking for a beat longer, buoyant memories dwindling more rapid than the speed of light.

The tears leak from Louis’ eyes and stream down his cheeks for the rest of the song. “We’re not who we used to be” on repeat with no pause or hesitation stuck inside Louis’ head, making the world a little fuzzy, Louis dizzy with the knowing that he is featured on one of Harry’s tracks. Louis knows he needs to get home soon, needs to clean up before he has to restart another shit day tomorrow. Louis begins walking the same time James Cordon’s voice is amplified into the city, the song meant for him coming to a close, “That was Harry Styles with his new song, Two Ghosts. Don’t forget to purchase his new self-titled debut album. Goodnight to all, we will be back in LA on Monday.” Louis stumbles a little on his feet, eyes still swelled with tears. He refuses to let anymore drop due to Harry.

Louis does not make a mental note that Harry has a new album out, and he also does not make a second mental note to remind himself to listen to it. Louis most certainly does not mentally mark them as priorities, either. (And if he were to, nobody really needs to know that except for himself.)

The rest of Louis’ walk home consists of Louis’ eyes stinging with more tears that he still refuses to let fall, and his brain muddled with harryharryharry, their past memories peeking through in his mind. The thing is, Louis doesn’t have to pretend that he hates Harry. Even if it has been five years, Louis isn’t ashamed about still loving Harry. Plus, Louis wasn’t the one who ruined everything, Harry was, so technically it’s fine for him to still love Harry.

Louis didn’t party or get drunk until four-thirty in the morning then decide to slip himself into bed, thinking everything was swell. Louis didn’t make four-thirty in the morning his normal getting home time. Louis didn’t stop coming home. Louis didn’t break up with Harry on his mum’s front porch, breaking their eternal love promise, then vanishing out of thin air, leaving his mum clueless as to what had just happened. Louis didn’t do any of those things, but knows them so well because Harry did them. Harry broke Louis. His mind, being, and heart.

Eventually, Louis stumbles into his flat. His thoughts swirling with Harry and Two Ghosts and muted “I love you”’s. Louis quickly decides that he has to listen to the album, has to listen to what else Harry wrote.

Using YouTube on his computer, Louis types “Harry Styles” into the search bar, not prepared for anything about to happen. The first video shown is the one from what seems to be tonight, Harry dressed in a blue suit, hair fluffed into a loose quif. Louis clicks on the video, watching in amazement and confusion how that could be the same Harry from before. His Harry.

“He’s still as beautiful as he was five years ago,” Louis whispers to himself, so quiet that if someone were there, they wouldn’t recognize even a mumble of the phrase spoken. He watches the whole entirety of the video, stunned with slightly bleary eyes and a pounding in his chest before pressing the back button. Directly below the video Louis just watched, ‘Harry Styles - Sweet Creature (Audio)’ stares back at him. Louis blinks, then he clicks.

The screen shows Harry sitting in a pink bubble bath with his face covered and his back facing the camera. Strums of a guitar dance around Louis’ dead-silent flat, Harry’s voice quickly following. Louis freezes all his movements, not a single muscle moving after he hears “Had another talk about where it’s going wrong” ringing from his computer like church bells on a Sunday. Alarm bells pulse throughout Louis’ head because he _knows_ this song is about him, too, and he _remembers_.

Louis remembers everything about Harry. He remembers everything he's done with Harry. He remembers the night he came home from work and walked into their flat to see candlelight flickering from the kitchen. He remembers entering the kitchen, hearing Harry’s feet padding along the tile floor as he cooks, the vase of roses on the table, Harry turning around and grinning with fond, directly towards Louis. He remembers Harry’s soft wispy breath against his lips as Harry barely whispers, “I’m sorry,” along with an even softer “I love you with all my heart, Lou.” He remembers sitting down to the home-cooked meal, lips turned upward in a tight smile. He remembers the small talk they made over dinner, Harry’s small pecks in apology against his lips after, Harry’s hands coming to rest at Louis’ hips, Harry pulling him closer. He remembers the stumbling up the stairs. He remembers Harry’s hot lips against his neck. He remembers Harry fucking in and out of him at a slow pace, their hands interlocked beside Louis’ head. He remembers the tears swelling in both of their eyes, Harry leaning down and mumbling a broken “I love you” into the spot between Louis’ neck and ear. He remembers forgiving Harry for the lack of time Harry’s been spending with him. He remembers Harry cradling his head against his chest. He remembers dozing off as Harry’s fingers run through his hair. He remembers Harry’s heartbeat speeding up, Harry’s body shaking with a sob as he murmurs a cracked, “ _Please_ don’t ever leave me.” He remembers the talk the next morning, where Louis told Harry what he was carrying around in his heart, his feelings and thoughts. He remembers talking to Harry about what was going wrong between them, neither knowing if it was fixable, both hoping it was.

Louis stares at the screen in shock, tears racing down his face and the audio continuing to play around him. This deep voice is the same one that used to lull him to bed, it used to be comforting. All it is now is anxiety and fear and sadness piled up together and crashing angrily at Louis like a tide crashing against the sand on a beach. Every line in this newly found song relates to Louis, and he can’t help but sob with it because who’s he kidding? He’s a fucking fool. He’s a fool for falling in love with Harry. He’s so dumb to think he’d ever talk to Harry again. Louis fell in love with Harry seven years ago. He fell so fucking hard. Louis wipes his hands against his face angrily. He hasn’t talked to Harry in five years, yet two songs have him falling back in love with the boy who broke him beyond repair.

Louis thinks about texting Harry to let him know that he knows about the songs, knows they’re about him, but he doesn’t. Instead he powers down his phone. He goes to bed that night with a heavy heart, lips tasting like salty tears, and cheeks stained pink.

Twelve days later, Louis decides to text Harry.

_hey, um could we meet up n talk ? i know abt the songs_

Louis receives a reply approximately three minutes later.

_8943567210 Error: Invalid Number. Please resend text message using a valid 10-digit phone number: hey, um could we meet up n talk ? i know abt the songs_

_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed !! :)


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